when mother died, the eldest son gave generously to the father. all of father's needs were accounted for by the elder.

eventually, the elder discovered that father kept none of the gifts for himself. rather, father gave the gifts from elder son directly to the younger.

elder was frustrated.
with father,
with younger,
with mother.

father died. the younger quickly received all of the father's assets. and when the estate was finally and completely settled, the elder received only a tattered, sealed letter, written in the hand of the father. the letter was dated long before the father's death, and it read:

i can't possibly know the depths of any one person at any given moment. we are given the surface, in its infinite value. how someone speaks, stands or slaps hands. any and all of this can clue us, if we receive it.

but there is more.

there are moments where i am the privileged. as a chaplain- as a friend- minister- brother. i with the rare, inside lane.

most difficult, for i cannot protect, though the helper in me is add. ever wanting to do anything. not because i can actually assist, but because i feel better than nothing. the honor denies my contrived duty.

these are the great opportunities. not to help or fix or save. rather, i can only marvel. at the power of another to live in with and under.

the old not yet
and
the new not fully
the association beacons influence among the active
national preference shifts and thrives
in one
form
the tribe identifies
international landscape broadens
for other
forms
new tides rise
uncertain
old orders pigeon hole
success
football soccer people
science sex culture
neither complete
nor understand
but we hope,
in due time.

history has it wrong.
copernicus' world is a fantasy.
by how many axis am i spinning?
the earths's, tilted
the galaxy's, asymmetrical.
and who cares about the moon anymore...
at motion
at rest
i have never felt astronomical pivots.

the earth- facebook- life- you-
reality, more than not
revolves around me.

i smirked as i walked away, thinking that nothing of value informed a certain decision. well, whatever... as i arrived, i was wrong.

dylan, from modern family, had a moment at dude ranch where he realized he was the furthest from home that he had ever been. he took another step, and again he realized he was the furthest from home that he had ever been.

what has not brought me here? i believe that humans are designed to be whole, and that fragmented life voids value.

each decision, moment, breathe- all connects the next. everything that i am, all that i had went into the decision:
to wait
to accept the offer
to press dd for candy and not hh for chips

i've held the hand of an unknown spouse as her beloved was unplugged. i've told the boy that dad was dead, and he could see him soon. i've called the friend of a friend, for a friend, when she didn't know.

i remember watching my brother, mother, father and friend.

this week i put on my suit twice, but the tears were not my own. they are my only gift to you. i am so sorry. i can't imagine.

sanctuary.
mine are
rarely quite
unresolved
slow-settled.
in the woods, i hear the highway.
on my chair, the a/c rattles walls.
i've found
coffee shops can be just as still.
at desert monastery,
i ventured alone at night,
into the dark
against policy.
hoping.

yet even there- miles from nothing,
the insects wouldn't silence.
the quiet, the still, the empty-
entirely (un)holy.

i took a mickey mouse class my final semester of college, "bird watching and backpacking."

the granola taught about bird calls and minimalisms. i didn't set out to learn anything. i took the class to chill: name some birds, walk around in the woods. easy a.

years later when i was deep in the desert wilderness of big bend national park, i remembered a classroom point that i had perviously ignored and discredited. the final few miles included a lengthy climb, and my lack of fitness and spirit compounded.

rest step.

i had not practiced, so mine were quite lacking in coordination. at least my mind was distracted from exhaustion. but the idea is to step, in ryhthm, with a slight-slow, pause. regardless, i made it back fine, and we got a hotel that night.

rest requires form. discipline. and contrary to popular belief, it can happen in motion. i believe that rest exists in the created order. that even though the earth is continuosly spinning, in ryhthm, it rests. everything …